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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
6 comments:
For parents:
Few years ago, while I was reading a book and trying to relax, before I finally go to sleep, my phone rang. It was already couple of hours after midnight, so I was curious who it was. I answered the phone, and on the other line, was a girl crying. I asked who she was and what she wanted. She told me her name with her trembling voice -I decided to change her real name for she entrusted me a sensitive and personal subject- it was my friend, Karla. She was pregnant and was having second thoughts about having an abortion.
Karla was four years younger than me- I was only twenty-three back then. She was working part-time in a fast-food restaurant while attending College at the same time. Her parents got divorced when she was only ten years old and was left in the custody of her Grandmother. She was an only child. After her parent’s divorce, she never saw her father again, while her mother paid her a visit at least twice a week. She grew up with a ripped, and crumbled family picture, put together by a tape and kept inside her wallet. All of these are last things she’d ever wanted her future children to experience.
She asked me what she should do, and how to solve her problems. I wish I knew the answers, and to be honest, I had not a single clue what to say to her, what advice or words I could've had laid down to comfort her. But there was one thing I was sure of- abortion was not an option. I told her that she should let her Grandmother or her Mother know about it, and that she should bring Derek, her boyfriend,-not his real name- with her. I knew, it wasn’t easy for her to do what I said, but, I believed and always will believe in the saying that “Blood is Ticker than Water.” In times of crisis, your family is the best place to find comfort.
To make things worst for her, Derek was nowhere to be found. He might’ve been so scared that even his own parents didn’t know where he went. He simply disappeared from everyone’s life just to avoid his obligations. He hid himself somewhere in the unknown and left the girl that he had promised to give all love.
We can’t judge him, though. He was as young as Karla, he was still enrolled in a adult school, and his parents were still the ones who put food on his plate. He was still far from his dreams-if he had one-and was absolutely not ready to become a Father. Trust me-I knew him- he was not ready.
I was speechless for a while,the tension and pressure from her voice changed the atmosphere inside my room.I couldn’t quite understand why all those things were happening to her. Then, a voice inside me started whispering words that I couldn’t clearly hear. So, I closed my eyes and concentrated on what the voice was telling me. “Open up,” the voice said.” “You should tell her your story.”
Perhaps I should, I thought.Then, all of a sudden, without a mark or a hint to begin, I started talking.I began telling her the secrets that has been haunting my dreams, the nightmares that wakes me up in the middle of my sleep, perspiring and scared. I told her that I was an unwanted child. That my Mother had un requited sex when she was in College and got pregnant. She tried to kill me when I was still inside her womb by drinking pills and other contraceptives. She planned to go to a doctor to had me taken out but abortion was illegal in our country and she would spend years in jail if caught. Her dark plan was stopped by my Grandparents,they told her that they will file a lawsuit against her if he had an abortion. Few months later, I was born. I grew up without knowing my father. I spent each day with a drunk and gambler mother, but, still aside from the facts that some people didn’t want me here- I survived. I continued living and become a better person than I was the day before.
I told her that everyone has the right to live, and that a fetus is already alive and has a soul. I tried to put some fear in her heart by saying one of the Ten Commandments “ Thou Shall Not Kill!” I persuaded her to drop the idea of abortion by asking her questions such as, What if your son or daughter becomes an important part of this world, perhaps he/she become a President or a Scientist? But, at the end, it was still up to her.
After few more minutes of brainstorming- it was like choosing an ending for a story- she said she had to get going. I told her to call me anytime she wanted and that I would lend a hand if she needed me.
Two seasons passed, and I didn’t hear a word from her. I tried calling her house number but their phone was already disconnected. I even visited her work place but I was told that she quit months ago. I was so damn, worried about her so I decided to go to their house and ask her Grandmother about her location- her mother was always home. But as soon as I arrived to their front-gate I noticed that their last name was missing from their front porch and was replaced- they moved out.
One midnight While I was reading a book and trying to relax, before I finally go to sleep, my phone rang.
For some reason, I was expecting Karla, I had a strong feeling that it was her, but it wasn’t.
It was her younger sister, Mima- not her real name. Mima told me everything I needed to know. After our conversation, I figured how bittersweet life really is. I was so happy to find out that Karla, was doing fine and was working abroad, yet I felt so sad because she didn’t follow my advice.
After thinking about everything that had happened, I put my book aside, and prayed for the unwanted and unborn child. I prayed to God that the next time He send that little Angel here, He should make sure that it would be inside a prepared and strong woman, and a man who has enough will and courage to fight the good fight and accept his responsibilities. Also, I prayed for my friend Karla. I asked for God’s forgiveness, and told Him that each and everyone of us here on Earth are confuse and does not know what we are doing.
for hometown:
Memories Stays
I was sweating hard, I remember. Under the sun, my childhood friends and I were playing , with our bare foot stumping , and running on the surface of the sun-stricken grassy grounds. The dusts from a quarry nearby, were visibly floating with the swirling winds, reaching every corner of our face. We climbed trees and rested on their branches when we got tired. And also, I remember, before my friends and I parted our ways, we liked spending a little more time to relax a crystal-clear, river. Most of the time, we had already gone home before the night sky befalls our city. And when I was finally all by my self in my room, I liked gazing at the sparkling stars above me. I sat beside my window-mouth agape- and wondered how the nature adorned my beloved city.
Now I look at this modern town, and without giving a second look at certain places, I wouldn’t recognize them. My childhood Eden has turned into a Concrete Jungle. Commercialized, over-populated and polluted, my Paradise has become. Tall and mighty buildings replaced the trees that I used to climb. Factories emits poisonous chemicals in the air, and casts out strips of gray clouds. Sky-scrapers above a dead, stagnant river, asphalt and concrete highways in exchange for the grassy grounds, Ah! In this place, my Hometown is nowhere to be found.
I know where to find my place of refuge-our ancestral house. I am going and see my old neighbour-hood, my neighbours and their flowery gardens. I remember Ms. Fanny’s rusty front gate, with vines all over it, covering every inch of the gate, from top to bottom. Oh yes, Mr. Eddie and his rooftop, I loved playing in that rooftop. It wasn’t so high , it was a garden on top of his two-story house. He had
love-birds there, lots of them, more than ten pairs, I’d say- I wonder if he still have some. One time, our neighbour’s cat-in fact it was Ms. Fanny’s cat, Bruno- somehow found its way into the love-bird’s cage and killed one, and as the custom of those birds, the lonely partner ended up committing suicide. It was sad ;it really was. I remember Mr. Eddie wiped his tears for the lost of his beloved pets. “It’s O.K,” he’d say. “I’ll just buy a new pair.”
Finally, here I am. My family’s history is written in each and every corner of this house. I fell from our veranda, once, while I was catching this lovely butterfly. My sister, liked writing on the wall, and I remember our grandparents wipe them out so that my mother wouldn’t see them. If my Mother does see those writings, my sister would be in big trouble. The last thing I want to remember about this place is the death of my grandparents. The last night of their wake, the moment when every member of our family were present and were gathered around a bonfire in the front lawn-except them, and that sadness almost killed me. The love that my whole family has been sharing all these years, the laughter and the sorrows are still here. But. . . I can’t deny it. This house was my Home. This house has been in a series of changes- in its structure, its colour, even the owner is now different- yet, it my mind, the town and its nature… the house and my family… even Mr. Eddie’s rooftop, and his love-birds remains the same. Memories I’d always treasure.
A Well Bad Thing
Eight years ago, when I was still an ambitious, newly married wife who thought marriage was like playing houses, I still tried hard to play my roll.
A few days after we returned from our honeymoon, I wanted to surprise my “lovely” husband—prepare him a good dinner.
I left my office two hours earlier than usual. I brought two big eggplants and some pork strips. I wanted to make eggplant noodle which was one of my favourite dishes.
It took me two hours to chop the eggplants into slim strips--benefited from my very “sharp” knife--I cut my fingers twice and they didn’t even bleed. I put all the possible flavours: soya sauce; chicken powders and salt. The sauce was supposed to be salty to mix with the plain noodle.
I set the table with candles and flowers, poured the wine and waited my husband to come back. He was quite surprised when he noticed everything--dinner—he always thought and treated me as a useless person.
I brought him a huge portion and soulfully watched him eat. He tried very cautiously, a tiny bite only, like testing something poisonous. Then he frowned and rushed into the bathroom and spited the eggplant out. “What’s wrong with you?” I wanted to kill him really when he reacted like this.
“Try it yourself. What on earth did you put into the eggplant?”
I tasted a little. It was terribly salty, even after mixing with the plain noodle. Not eatable! But I immediately imagined the soap plays, the men always ate the terrible food their women prepared for them and pretended that they enjoyed. Show some gratitude at least. But my husband exaggeratingly washed his mouth drunk a lot of water and accused me immediately, “this is murder, I can get heart disease by eating this.”
I couldn't say a word at all, sat there alone with my tears dropped into the eggplant—I wasn’t a good fighter yet eight years ago. But he just didn't survive me, “did you even make this before? Or you simply think everybody can cook? Don’t waste food anymore. I can help you to turn it an eggplant soup if you want. . .” I really hoped Chinese government could allow individuals hold guns.
I poured everything into the toilet and shut myself into the bedroom, when my husband still had no idea why I was pissed off
So, we ate outside for eight years before we moved to Canada. Somehow his stomach was desperate when he couldn’t approach certain Chinese food which wasn’t available anywhere in Vancouver. And I, never felt guilty when he made himself busy in the kitchen. Our immigrant life even figured him a good cook. See, not a badly bad thing at all.
Rant:
Money-Sucking-People
In the top of the Pyramid you stand, you who controls everything on the palm of your hands. You who step on their remaining pride and spit on their face, in this world, you, without any doubt, are a disgrace. You who think you can afford a human life- damn you! You who believe that George Washington is mightier than God- burn in the Inferno! Like the devil, it is where you belong. You are the disease that has no cure. In this farm you are the pest that the Farmer has thrown. It is harder for you to receive the Kingdom of God than for a camel to enter a pin-hole. The will come, I am sure, the Pyramid will be turned up-side-down.
You who wear expensive clothing but still smells like a pig, damn you for you should look at these children lying naked on the streets. You who live in a Mansion, in an earthquake it will collapse, for you refused to give shelter to your fellow men and free them from their weathered wooden shack . You who eat the best meats, and the sweetest fruits that this world has to offer, one day you will choke to death, for you Glutton should’ve fed the poor’s empty stomachs, and save your dying brothers because of hunger . You who kill, for any given price. I am sure another person like yourself is going pay for your life. For a cup of rice, someone will cut your head off. For you who think that life can be bought should perish.
You who sit in the position, damn you! We are to one who placed you in the seat, we should be the one you should serve, not us serving you! You should please your people not only your colleagues, not just your allies and definitely not your hookers! You promise to do this, and to help us with that, but Sir, your term is almost over, but in poverty, millions of us are still trapped. In your pockets our sweat and tear pours. You thieves already have some, why do you still ask for more?
Money is just like us in time, we both lie, but we both cannot stand up against it. Just like you and me, your money would vanish from the face of the earth. If final day comes, I know you’d suffer in hell. I want to see Satan torture your soul with his torch of flame. You should know how it feels to be treated like a cockroach, a despicable, gruesome roach. Down there, you can cry all you want and scream for help. You can try and promise God everything you had, give Him all your assets to pay for your sins. But I am sorry my friend, in Heaven, your money is worth nothing. For brother just like Happiness, you can not buy Forgiveness.
Hi, Brad, here is a short story for editting.
Title: "Outdoor Cat."
Being empty nest, Peter and Susan eventually got the chance to enjoy their couple life again. They love to go restaurant together. Both of them noticed some of the older couples, mostly in their 80’, sat on the same table, both doing their own things, and never talked with each other.
“How sad could that be” Peter Talked to his wife, “Those couple has been married for half of a decade, but they don’t seem to be happy.”
“Yes, both of them don’t look happy. I wish it wouldn’t happen to our life.” Susan answered thoughtfully.
Some people said once you pass the age of thirties, people are more content about the way they are, and stay in that situation for the rest of their life.
Peter and Susan are university sweet heart and got married after university graduation. Susan became a nurse in the St. Paul Hospital and Peter found a job at International Trading Company.
At the age of 22, Peter became a father of a baby boy and three years later, they had a baby girl. Susan and Peter both worked, they bought a house at the age of 25.
Thirty-five years later, both of their children all grown up, their daughter got married and moved out. Their son still remained single.
In fPetert of other people’s eyes, both Peter and Susan are such happy couple - they always talked with each other and laughed together. They always invited people to have party in Peter’s house; Susan make really delicious cake. Each year, both of them went out for a family vacation.
Susan never noticed Peter was not happy sometimes, he liked to sit alone in the coffee shop, In stead of usual cheerful face, his face was clouded with pain. He knew that their happy marriage was based on one condition that was to let her wife have her way – she must have it, and may it be as well.
On an ordinary day, Peter and Susan sat in fPetert of the TV, they were watching a Comedy. A dialogue appeared on the screen attracted Peter’s attention.
“I have lots of friends; we played together when we were young and single. Later on all my friends got married. There was only me who didn’t get married. Every time, when I went out together with my friends and their wives, I felt a sort of tension between me and their wives. All my friends admire me so much for my freedom of being a single. On me, they saw the person before they got married. But, there was good news for all the married man: ‘Married men live longer than single men.’ Guess Why? The answer is indoor cats live longer than outdoor cats - indoor cats spend all their time looking out the window at all the birds and squirrels they can’t chase, while outdoor cats chase everything that moves. So, would you rather be a indoor cat and live longer/healthier or the outdoor cat that chases life?” Both of them laughed and laughed.
The familiar pain flooded his heart again. It seemed like God was talking to him in a personal way. There was no way he can escape. All of these years, the marriage was all about compromise: he let her make decision for almost everything. But, was he really happy? No, definitely not, he just knew it. The trip they took last year to Alaska, Peter really want to go Mexico, but his wife wanted to go Alaska, so they ended up going Alaska. He really tired of compromise.
Ever from that TV show, there was always tension happened around the house. Susan loves the house to be tiny and clean all the time, so that she constantly vacuumed and dusted the place, sometimes, it drove Cindy (the outdoor cat) into nuts. It was lovely sunny day in August; Peter looked outside the window and said:
“Hi, honey, how about we go outside and have a walk, since the weather is so nice?”
Susan hesitated, “No, I have so many things to do in the house, and I have to make the garden today, otherwise the weeds will grow into neighbour’s property.”
“Ok, fine, I guess, I will just go out myself.” Peter sighed and went out the door himself. Having a walk has become his habit lately. Last night, Peter woke up at the mid night, his heart started pumping heavily and he realized he had a nervous breakdown. Without Susan’s notice, he went outside to have a brisk walk in the dark night. The quietness of the street eventually calmed him down.
When Peter stepped into the house, the familiar feeling from last night came back to attach him again. Susan was there sitting on the sofa, wearing a grumpy face. “There are always so many things to do inside the house, and I never got anytime to do anything.”
“Nobody asked you to, you did it all yourself, I was just asking you out for a walk” Peter eventually had the courage to challenge his wife.
“How dare you say that? I am just doing everything for the family.” She could not believe those words from the usual submissive husband’s mouth.
It was a typical Vancouver rainy day, Peter liked to close the curtain and turn on all the lights in the bedroom. Just before he made himself cozy and forgot about the rain outside, Susan stepped into the room
“Why is that so dark here, why do you close the curtain, you don’t have to turn on the lights during the day time.” Susan screamed.
A lots of quarrel happened in the family, something like where to put the table, when to eat the dinner. Whenever Peter said something opposite her idea, she got so mad, and kept on quarrelling, even though Susan was always the one who finished the sentence, but she was not at all happy - something had changed in this house.
Ken (their son) came to visit Peter and Susan and he stayed overnight in their house. The next day morning, Susan said few times to Peter before the breakfast:
“Ken need to renew the ICBC licence today.”
During the breakfast, Susan kept on talking to Ken: “Ken, you need to renew your licence today.”
“You don’t have to say that for so many times” Peter was annoyed.
That was it. Susan took off and drove the car away in anger.
By the night, Susan still didn’t come back home, Peter asked his son to call his mother. When Ken hanged up the phone, Peter asked, “What did your mother say?”
“She said she will be staying in her brother’s place for a while, after she came back, she wanted to have a divorce with you.”
“Oh” Peter’s reaction was awful calm, it seemed he knew it was coming.
“What happened between you and Mom?” Ken asked
“You know that, son, when Mom and Dad married very young, when I was 25 years old, I already had you and your sister, bought a big house and had a big mortgage.”
That was silence, Peter continued.
“My son, sometimes, I am jealous about you, you are 35 years old now, and still remain single, you got to travel anywhere you want, join the soccer team, play diving, skiing, mountain biking. Those are all the things I have missed.”
“Dad, I know that, that is why I still remain single, I don’t wan to marry as earlier as you do.” Ken said.
That was the first Christmas after Peter and Susan separated. He felt awful lonely. He called Susan the first time after nearly one year of silence.
“Hi, Susan, you know this is the first Christmas we are going to spend without being with each other, do you have any plan?”
“No, I will probably make a dinner at home, why don’t you come over and we can have a dinner together.” Susan said.
Peter went that night to Susan’s apartment, she made him the dinner. Peter asked her the question that was in his mind for so long time, but he still cares about his wife and asked “How is life lately?”
Thee is a subtle smile on her face “You know what, to be honest, I never know I could still be happy by living alone, and I am glad we don’t need to be like the older couple we used to see in the restaurant.”
“Yes, life is so short, we will all die one day, maybe twenties years down the road, it is too short to be sad, I can be sad for the rest of my life and for exchange for a name of ‘good husband’ or I can choose to live a full life” Peter was glad he has the chance to explain himself.
Susan reached out to hold Peter’s hand, “you don’t need to say anything, I understand”
Both of them know they still care about each other, they know if anything happened to one of them, they will be there for each other. It is just they couldn’t live under the same roof any more.
Joey and Cindy are both of the cats they petted, Cindy is an outdoor cat, he went outside everyday to chase everything that moved, after both couple sold the house, Peter moved to a loft at New Westminster Quay and Susan bought a apartment at Delta. Cindy stayed with Susan, and Joey stayed with Peter. Cindy cried two weeks everyday at Susan’s apartment, he really missed the outdoor life he used to have, and he was slowly turning insane. Eventually, Susan had to give him away to a friend who owns a house. Cindy recovered eventually and continued enjoying her outdoor life.
1627 words
"Nation of Servants"
In a Hong Kong based magazine, a writer, columnist, and broadcaster named Chip Tsao, allegedly called the Filipinos “a Nation of Servants”. His remarks had fuelled Filipinos all over the globe causing them to rally inside and out of the country- they demanded an apology from Mr. Tsao. Here is an excerpt from Mr. Tsao’s article in HK Magazine, “There are more than 130,000 Filipina maids working as US$3,580-a-month cheap labour in Hong Kong. As a nation of servants, you don't flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter. . .”
This racial remarks is unacceptable. Filipinos is one of the most in demand workers. Nurses, Doctors, Engineers and other Filipino professionals are continuously being employed all over the world. They intelligent people who gets hired because of their great skills, and work ethics. It is not because of cheap labour and absolutely not because Philippines is “a nation of servants.” Overseas Filipino Workers (OFW) - and Filipinos as a whole nation - are a hardworking, family loving and God fearing people who would foreign food and feed a foreign mouth just to make sure of a brighter future for their love-ones. We do not deserve this hideous title given by an arrogant Chinese man who think Filipinos are born to be servants . We are, in a way- but tell me who isn’t? Someone is always severing somebody.
Mr. Tsao also said in his article “I summoned Louisa, my domestic assistant who holds a degree in international politics from the University of Manila, hung a map on the wall, and gave her a harsh lecture. . .” and that “. . . if war breaks out between the Philippines and China, I would have to end her employment and send her straight home, because I would not risk the crime of treason for sponsoring an enemy of the state by paying her to wash my toilet and clean my windows 16 hours a day. . .” Because of this, he is now in the Philippines’ black list. He can not enter the country and is not allowed to hire any Filipinos- the woman he was talking about was not exactly working under his supervision, but rather his father’s.
It is true that there are Filipinos who graduated from the Philippines’ finest universities and still ends up working as a Domestic Helper abroad. Sad to say but, but there is not enough jobs inside the country, and the government invests the funds for sending out more Filipinos rather than making jobs inside the country.
It is, as I see it, is a modern day slavery. As I hate the comments of Mr. Tsao, I despise the Philippine politicians for acting blind and deaf and not see how bad the situation of the country is. Mr. Tsao has a point, I must admit, but his point is enough to call a striving nation servants- slaves who are not allowed to flex a muscle on their master.
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